Page 2 of Rushing Her: Seattle, Westerners
An hour later, I’m sitting in my doctor’s office waiting room, working through emails on my phone when the hairs on my neck rise. I look up, and a woman is staring me down. Her eyebrows are dropped, and her lips are pinched; she’s giving me some serious stink eye. I thought pregnant women were supposed to be happy and glow. This one doesn’t. She is angry. I glance around me to see if she’s staring someone else down, but no, it’s me.
“Holy crap, what is up with this woman?” I mumble as if I’m talking on my phone. That must be what she’s upset about. I’ve heard some women believe that using cell phones can cause birth defects. I can’t tell if she’s pregnant or not, but I slip my phone into my bag and hold my purse in front of me, prepared to smack her with it or punch her in the face if she rushes me.
There is something vaguely familiar about her. She is blonde, petite—even in high heels—and where I’m still in my work outfit, she wears a skintight yellow dress with her full cleavage on display. I’ve come across women like her in LA for years. Many people from California are migrating to Portland and Seattle, which may explain her over-the-top look. Her make-up is on point, and her pursed lips have been plumped.
“Alexandra.” My name is called, and I jump up, wanting to get away from this crazy woman. There’s movement behind me, and I turn to see her standing up, too. “Oh, Kimberly, you're next. Just have a seat,” the nurse says, and she huffs before moving to sit where I had been.
After having my weight taken and an ultrasound performed, I am led to a room where I scoot up onto the table. I like Dr. Jarvis and will hate leaving her practice, but I realize I mustmove on. She’s already suggested someone I can use in Seattle when I decide to get pregnant.
“Alex, how’s your Thursday going?” Dr. Jarvis steps into the room, and I calm down from the situation in the lobby with that woman.
“I’m doing well. The hormones have been making me a bit more emotional.” I laugh it off.
“Do you still want me to prescribe the next round of medication? The pills you’ve been taking have contributed to your healthy egg numbers; however, by changing to the Gonal-F injections, it will increase the growth and quality of the follicles and bring you another step closer to viable embryos. This is your body and your decision, Alex. What’s your plan?”
This is why I travel down here to see her instead of finding a doctor closer to home. She knows me. She’s not only an OB-GYN, she’s also a reproductive endocrinologist. I was lucky to become one of her patients years ago when I first came here for my general female care and to get my IUD fitted.
“What were the test results? Do you think I’m able to handle it?”
“Your numbers and levels look good, so the more eggs we can collect, the better. We even identified a few follicles forming in your ultrasound today.”
“Okay. Let’s start.”
“Great. Let me fill in my nurse, and she’ll be in to get you started. Come back on Monday before heading home, and we’ll have your first two weeks of injections ready. When you return, we’ll do another ultrasound. If more follicles have developed, we’ll give you the trigger shot at that time; if not, we’ll do another round of injections.”
“That sounds good.” I try not to fidget on the table, so the paper doesn’t make noise.
Dr. Jarvis opens the door and steps out without closing it behind her. She tells her nurse to prepare the shot for me, and a few moments later, I hear the nurse directing that Kimberly woman to the bathroom. I stand up and move to the chair so I won’t be seen when she passes my room after she’s done using the facilities.
A few minutes pass, and the nurse accompanies Kimberly back to her room. Something about her being in a non-patient area, but I don’t think of it anymore when it’s time for my first shot.
“Okay, Alexandra, let’s get you started.” She proceeds to show me the best way to administer the drug to myself and suggests that I take it at night, explaining the side effects and potential risks that the doctor has already gone over with me.
Leaving the office, I’m a bit emotional and decide to take a walk before returning to my hotel for the night. I have meetings tomorrow—one with T.K., then a couple of new players who want to meet with me. I can only take on one, maybe two clients, but there are several people in my office whom I can refer them to and keep an eye on them. Just a few slots remain so that I can give each client my undivided attention.
Strolling along the pedestrian walkway on the Hawthorne Bridge, memories I’d prefer not to entertain swarm through my mind. The last time I crossed this very bridge, I was holding Brayden’s hand. I sensed he was about to propose, and I knew what I had to do. I broke both of our hearts that day. Thirteen years have come and gone, and I’ve never recovered. He’s moved on and on, according to the press, but I’ve only been with a couple of guys because work has been my sole focus.
The bright side of our breakup is that both of us achieved our dreams. So maybe it’s hearing the rumblings that Brayden’s talking about retiring from the Seattle Westerners, or the fact that I’m actually contemplating having a baby by myself, thathas me so emotional and reflecting on the past with regrets. He has always been the man I compare all others to. My parents loved and adored him.
After we broke up, I couldn’t tell anyone why I was to blame, and they all just assumed incorrectly. Then he proved them right by doing what many rookies do—sleeping with countless women. I can’t blame them, though; he’s sexy and sweet all rolled up in one.
I lean against the railing of the bridge and peer out over the water. He brought me here for our first date. Told me his story of being raised on a farm in Montana and how he wanted something different, knowing he was meant to be great and do more.
His brother helped him because his parents were so focused on the farm. It’s not even one they own; they just work it, and I have this information because I stay in the know for all things Brayden Murray. His parents have still never attended one of his professional games, and I find it sad, but he isn’t mad at them. He used to say it’s how his father was raised. Keep working for his family until he can’t anymore, to ensure they have everything they need. He worked hard to pay for his son to become the football player he was, getting him admitted into the University of Oregon, and then for his eventual recruitment to the Gridiron Warriors League.
I’m proud of what he’s achieved and often wonder if he could have done it with me as his girlfriend. I just know that on that day, I had to make that decision, and I did. If we had stayed together, he might not have made it, and I didn’t want to be the reason he couldn’t do it.
Walking back to my hotel room as the evening settles in, I feel the change in the air. Preseason has already started. This is going to be a big year. Will the Portland Settlers carry on andsucceed in a repeat, or will one of the many other teams step up and take the Victory Bowl?
Chapter 2
Brayden
Staring out the window from the hotel’s King Suite, the Hawthorne Bridge looms large. Memories flash through my mind of flowing long copper-red hair blowing in the March wind. I took her to dinner at one of our favorite Italian restaurants. For months, I’d saved money to buy the ring and set up that special night. The ring ended up in the river, and the night was blown out of the water when she told me she didn’t want to be my girlfriend anymore. That she wasn’t in love with me. I wanted to fight her. I knew Alexandra loved me; I could feel it in my bones, but she turned and walked away, and I let her. After that, I poured all my energy into football, and a month later, prior to graduating from the University of Oregon, I became the second-round draft pick for the Seattle Westerners. I’ve played with them ever since.
Now, however, I’m reflecting on everything. Coach Winters is retiring from his position as head coach at the university, and he and my brother have been tremendous influences on me and my life. My brother settled down years ago with the love of his life. They have three wonderful children. I have a lot to show formyself as far as accolades go, but there’s no one to come home to every night. I enjoy my beautiful home on Lake Washington with my dogs, but I’m single. I’ve never been able to find a woman that I care about as much as I did Alexandra. No woman compares to her.
Rubbing my brawny hand over my bald head, I think about those years that I was the league manwhore. It wasn’t right, and I regret it, so now I mostly keep to myself and work hard at being a top player and mentor. I volunteer for youth football programs and show up for the typical hospital visits, but since Alexandra suggested it in college, I’ve also been an integral part of the Big Brother program and spent time at youth facilities for kids who struggle with everyday life, just like I did when I was growing up.
